Ghosts of Time and Memory
by Neko Oni
Summary: IchigoHitsugaya. He was raped and bound. His body was broken, but his soul couldn't be broken. Hitsugaya reveals his past life to Ichigo.
1. shoe

So full of crack the Columbian drug lords are writhing in jealousy.

SUMMARY: Hitsugaya stumbles across a relic from his past life, and relieves the horrors of said life from in Ichigo's arms.

WARNINGS: yaoi, Chinese foot binding, mentions of rape and suicide, but nothing graphic. Some making out, but nothing below the belt.

PAIRINGS: Ichigo x Hitsugaya

NOTES: This was written in a sad, pathetic attempt to shift my muse's focus from Hitsugaya back to my unfinished Beyblade fic, "China Blossom", which deals with foot binding and which people have been after me to update. Said attempt failed miserably and resulted in this crap-tastic crack-fest.

Oh, almost forgot- no spoilers or anything, but this is set when Ichigo's in his world, he and Hitsu have been a couple for a while- i.e., their relationship is already established- Ichigo is going to sit in on a college class as a visitor to see if he likes it (I did that once when I was in 9th grade) and Hitsu goes with him.

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GHOSTS OF MEMORY AND TIME

By Neko Oni

"Toushiro, you can't wear that." Ichigo swallowed the bite of bagel in his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice, calmly staring across the table at the smaller, seething shinigami.

Hitsugaya narrowed his large turquoise eyes and crossed his arms, glaring icicles at the bigger boy. "In case what little brain you have has rotted away, this is what students wear to school. Besides, I'm doing this as a favor for you, Kurosaki." The last word came out as a vehement hiss.

Ichigo winced- Hitsugaya only called him by that name when he was pissed. He swallowed his orange juice, then leveled brown eyes at the young taichou. "Not college students. They wear street clothes-"

"You're not in college, baka!" Hitsugaya snapped. Was it just Ichigo, or did the tiny taichou's eyes seem a lighter blue, almost as if they were glowing?

Ichigo scowled around his bagel. He didn't like being interrupted. "I'm going to sit in on a college class today."

"This is all I have to wear!" Hitsugaya snapped again, small hands moving to his slender hips.

Ichigo was about to snarl in reply, but paused. Bickering would get him nowhere with the small shinigami. And he really didn't want to ruin their day together. When Hitsugaya was pissed, he tended to stay pissed, and Ichigo didn't want to deal with a grumbling snowball all day.

To buy himself some time, he stuffed the remainder of the first half of his bagel into his mouth. Cheeks bulging, he ignored the icy blue glower. He calmly, speculatively eyed the frosty child of winter as he leaned back in his chair and chewed.

Under that steady gaze, Hitsugaya's anger cooled. His brows relaxed and soft pink lips eased out of the frown. "What?" He demanded from Ichigo, but the orange-haired boy just calmly chewed his breakfast. After several uncomfortable moments, the strawberry idiot finally swallowed.

"My sister Karin dresses like a boy." Ichigo took a swig of juice.

Hitsugaya shrugged. "So?"

Ichigo eyed him over the glass's rim. "You're nearly the same size- you could borrow some of her clothes."

Sea-foam green eyes widened. "HELL NO!" Toushiro screeched.

Ichigo shrugged. "It's either that, or wear your uniform."

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Ichigo just finished the last of his bagel and juice when he heard Hitsugaya coming down the stairs.

"One word to anyone, Kurosaki, and I swear I'll kill you."

Ichigo turned in his seat, and for a moment was unable to form any words. In fact, his brain temporarily shut off, but his hormones danced in glee.

Even the school uniform never managed to show off Toushiro's gorgeous body like this outfit did. The boy was even more stunning than usual. Dainty feet were clad in a simple pair of black flip flops, lithe legs sheathed in form-fitting jean capris that showed off his gentle, barely there curves, and he topped that off with a black baby doll t-shirt

Under the scrutinizing gaze, Hitsugaya blushed and his teal eyes narrowed. "What?!"

Ichigo smiled dazedly. "Nothing. Just-wow."

Hitsugaya fidgeted. "This looks beyond ridiculous. Forget it, I'm just going to wear the stupid uniform, I knew I shouldn't have come-"

When he turned to go, Ichigo's brain turned back on, and he leapt forward, grabbing a thin, pale wrist. "It doesn't look ridiculous. It looks nice. Very nice."

Hitsugaya still wouldn't look at him, but the substitute shinigami could see his cheeks were still pink. "Really?"

Ichigo smiled warmly. "Really really. You look beyond nice. Hot, infact." He blushed at those words. Bad Ichigo, down boy. Quit thinking THOSE kinds of thoughts now.

Toushiro turned, peering up at Ichigo through a veil of thick, dark eyelashes. The black of his lashes set off his turquoise orbs nicely, making them even more enchanting and enticing. Toushiro really was beautiful. It was a shame he didn't know it, but Ichigo delighted in reminding him.

They stared into one another's eyes for several moments before Toushiro's blush deepened and he looked away, and Ichigo coughed and rubbed the back of his head, messing his spiky orange hair up even more as he struggled to keep his naughty thoughts in check.

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Toushiro stumbled in the flip flops as they walked down the busy sidewalk. He latched onto Ichigo's hand out of reflex to catch himself. Ichigo looked down at him, smiling at the feel of slender arms wrapped around his own lean, lightly muscled one.

"You okay?" The spiky white head bobbed in reply, and Ichigo's grin grew. Toushiro was blushing in embarrassment. The agile taichou wasn't used to shoes that had a habit of falling off one's feet.

Ichigo gazed down at him. "Ya know, I've never noticed how petite your feet are. Must be why you're so fast." He added quickly to soothe the bristling boy.

Hitsugaya snorted, but didn't let go of Ichigo's arm. "Shut up, Ichigo."

Score- he was back to Ichigo now, not Kurosaki. Ichigo slipped his large hand around one of Toushiro's small ones and gave it a light squeeze. "Thank you for coming with me today, Shiro-chan."

Toushiro mumbled something under his breath, then suddenly sped up, unconsciously pulling Ichigo along with him. The bigger boy just laughed and allowed himself to be yanked along.

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"The foundations for foot binding were laid during the Five Dynasties period in Chinese history, and in later dynasties, foot binding became prevalent among the elite."

Ichigo half listened as the professor droned on and on and on about cultural practices of the past. Was this what he had to look forward to? Suddenly, high school seemed a whole lot better. At least at college, he wouldn't have to worry about missing out on sleep. Several students had already nodded off. Bored, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Toushiro.

The short captain of the tenth division was stiff in his chair. His small back was ram-rod straight, his chest rose and fell rapidly, tiny fists clenched in his lap, and his turquoise eyes were tinged with bright cerulean.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, but he couldn't ask what was wrong. Instead, he followed Toushiro's stricken gaze back to the front of the room, and the slides the professor was showing while she rambled.

"The feet of young female children were wrapped tightly in bandages about two inches wide and ten feet long. Over a period of time, the four toes of each foot were bent into the sole, and the sole and heel were brought as close together as possible."

That went in one ear and out the other, but the pictures…Ichigo shuddered. No wonder Toushiro looked ill. Pictures showed girls' purposefully crippled feet, their toes folded under, pressing into the sole, and the soles and heels touching. The feet were no more than four to six inches long, the way they were scrunched up, warped, and twisted.

"Those with bound feet, called lotus feet, wore specially made shoes called lotus shoes. These shoes were as beautiful as the crippled feet were ugly. They were intricately decorated with fine embroidery, which was highly prized. And here is one of the finest examples of a lotus shoe."

The professor picked a tiny, tiny shoe off the desk and displayed it in her hand. The shoe was so small, she could cradle it in her hand. It was beautiful; it was made of a snowy white silk and embroidered with a blue ice dragon on the sides.

At the sight of the shoe, Toushiro's eyes popped, his breathing became erratic, and he clapped one dainty hand over his gaping mouth then bolted from the room. Without hesitation, Ichigo followed him. Yes, this was gruesome, but they were both shinigamis. They chopped hollows to bits in their sleep. They'd seen more grotesque things than a bound foot. Something really wasn't right with his little Shiro-chan. That shoe really seemed to upset him.

There was a restroom right across the hall, and Ichigo checked there first. He found Toushiro leaning over a toilet. "Toushiro." The short shinigami wiped the back of his mouth and turned at Ichigo's approach.

Ichigo's brown eyes widened. Toushiro was stricken. His face was a ghostly white and his slender body trembled. His turquoise eyes were bright, large and haunted. He made a strangled sound in this throat, reaching for Ichigo, who gathered him up into his strong arms without hesitation.

Toushiro buried his face in Ichigo's neck and felt the other's warm breath wash over his cheek and ear. "Shiro-chan, what's wrong?"

The small taichou swallowed back nausea before answering. "That's my shoe. Well, it was when I was alive."

Tbc…

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I'm evil- I cut it off at the good part. But that just makes you wanna keep reading, ne? If ya would like to read the next chappie, be kind and review!


	2. never let go

The small taichou swallowed back nausea before answering. "That's my shoe. Well, it was when I was alive."

Ichigo's heart stopped. "W-what?!" He cried out.

Toushiro kept his eyes closed and his breath hitched. He clenched his lips tightly together, fighting back the urge to vomit again. He'd been taken by surprise- he never expected his past, his mortal life, to come and slap him in the face out of nowhere. It was worse than a surprise attack by a hollow. The things the professor oh so matter of factly described in there had been his reality. He'd lived through it, had it done to him. His little feet had been bent and broken when he was alive. He never forgot it, but he never dwelled on it, either. It was done- he was long dead, his flesh rotted off his corpse long ago. But to have it thrown in his face so suddenly like that, especially that shoe…

The boy's breathing was getting more and more erratic by the second, and his trembling turned into violent shuddering. Ichigo rubbed his back, stroked his hair, and whispered calm words to him. Toushiro clung to him like a life line, and gradually, oh so gradually, he calmed down under Ichigo's gentle and consistent administrations.

Ichigo kissed the top of his head; Toushiro's face was buried against him, so he had no access to the boy's face. He blocked his own feelings out- he was horrified and morbidly curious. Toushiro obviously had had his feet bound, and that had to have occurred while he was alive. As he rubbed the white haired boy's back, Ichigo couldn't stop himself from staring at Toushiro's small, perfectly formed feet that dangled in the air. Because of his trembling, one flip flop had fallen off, and the other was barely hanging onto his baby toe.

The tiny taichou quieted down. His slim body was still, breathing gentle and hardly noticeable. The only sign of life was the small fist tightly clinging to Ichigo's maroon t-shirt. Ichigo pulled Toushiro back slightly so that he could see the boy's face. Toushiro mewled in protest, little hand tightening further, twisting into the t-shirt. Ichigo kissed his forehead then ran the calloused pad of his thumb over the boy's soft cheek.

Dark eyelashes fluttered open; the teal orbs were glazed as Toushiro relived long buried and forgotten memories of the past, of his life. At least they were no longer bright with pain. Toushiro had calmed down and was recovering from the shock; Ichigo was flooded with relief and held the boy that much tighter.

"Toushiro…" He started, but had no idea what to say. Yes, he wanted to know what happened in Toushiro's life, but he wasn't just going to blurt it out- the taichou would tell him when he was ready. He wouldn't risk pushing Toushiro away.

Toushiro blinked, eyes clearing and gazing up at the boy cradling him in his arms. "Ichigo." His voice was soft, barely audible. Memories lingered; he was still trying to push them back into the recesses of his mind.

"Okay?" Ichigo asked lamely, struggling for something, anything, to say.

Toushiro nodded then paused, afraid Ichigo was going to pull away now. His eyes cleared a little more; he was coming back to himself. "Ichigo…" Those mesmerizing eyes started to get bright again, and Ichigo grew worried. "Don't let go of me. Not yet."

Ichigo clutched him tightly, whispering fiercely into the boy's ear, "Never."

Toushiro smiled softly up at him, but it was tinged with sadness. "Thank you."

Ichigo melted, his hold gentling around the boy. He didn't really want to go back into the lecture- that class didn't let out for another hour! He was quite certain Toushiro didn't, either. He wasn't fond of the idea of hanging around in the public bathroom all day, either. He'd much rather curl up at home with Toushiro snuggled in his lap.

He smiled back down at Toushiro, then wiped the pretty face with his hand, trying to clean him up. Toushiro hadn't cried, but he'd been really shaken up. His skin was blotched and too pallid for Ichigo's liking. "Why don't we get cleaned up a bit and get out of here?"

When Toushiro nodded his ascent, Ichigo carried him over to the handicap sink, which had a wider ledge than the other sinks. Toushiro's small butt just fit on the porcelain ledge. Turquoise eyes shot wide; the boy gasped softly, small fists latching onto Ichigo's shirt once more. Ichigo still held him close so the taichou leaned into his chest, his strong arms wrapped safely around him. He nuzzled the top of Toushiro's thick, spiky hair and the boy relaxed.

Ichigo kept one arm wrapped securely around Toushiro's slim waist and turned the tap on with his free hand. He waited until the water got warm, nibbling playfully at strands of Toushiro's hair. The small boy snorted and tried to pull his head away, but he was held firm to Ichigo's chest. He settled for clamping a dainty hand over Ichigo's mischievous lips, but the orange haired boy nipped at his fingers. "Hey!" Toushiro yelped and pulled back. Ichigo smirked.

Toushiro's startled cry was abruptly cut off by a large hand sopping with warm water scrubbed over his face. He coughed, glaring at Ichigo. "Not funny." 

Ichigo just smirked, then yelled in surprise when Toushiro turned the tables. "Hey!" Toushiro buried his wet face into Ichigo's chest, wiping the water on his shirt. Fresh faced, he pulled back and smiled smugly. "Serves you right."

Ichigo snorted and pulled away. Toushiro gasped as the bigger boy's cocooning warmth left him. Startled, he latched onto the sink ledge to keep from slipping off. Ichigo came out of a stall with a roll of toilet paper in his hand. The bright cerulean hue tinged the turquoise orbs again, enhancing their beauty but making him look so sad.

Still keeping him seated on the sink ledge, Ichigo wrapped a comforting arm around Toushiro again, holding him close. The sad hue faded at the contact, but small fists twisted in his shirt, as if to prevent him from pulling away again. He kissed a soft, pale cheek, and Toushiro snuggled against him, but refused to let go.

Ichigo held him in the crook of his elbow, so both hands were free. He just couldn't move the arm wrapped around Toushiro. In that hand he placed the toilet paper roll; with the other, he unwound a long strip. He used his knee to bring one of the boy's slender, short legs up then wrapped the strip sloppily around a dainty ankle.

"What the hell are you doing?" Toushiro's head turned to the side, cheek pressed to Ichigo's chest and fists still clenching the shirt. He looked down as Ichigo kept wrapping his ankle with toilet paper.

"Well, this way, if people see me carrying you, they won't question it." Ichigo's brown eyes flicked to Toushiro's exasperated face. "They'll think you hurt your ankle."

Toushiro snorted. "But toilet paper?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It's the best I could do."

Toushiro rolled his eyes then looked away.

"Hey, you can always walk, you know." Toushiro stiffened, small hands jerking in Ichigo's shirt. Ichigo's smirk died, and he kissed Toushiro's cheek to reassure him. The boy definitely was not okay yet. He continued to wrap the ankle until it looked passably bandaged then carelessly discarded the rest of the toilet paper roll into the sink.

He had to bend down to get Toushiro's shoes, but the small boy still held onto him tightly. He rubbed Toushiro's knuckles lightly. "Just let me get your shoes, kay?" The boy hesitated, then nodded.

Ichigo bent down, keeping one hand on a bony knee as he grabbed the flip flops and shoved them into a large pocket on his khaki cargo shorts. He lingered over Toushiro's feet; they were small and perfect, just like the rest of him. Long fingers wrapped around the tiny appendage not covered in toilet paper. His foot was about as big as Ichigo's hand, and the orange haired boy stroked it tenderly, admiring it. So dainty and pretty- how could anyone want to warp it? He bent his head and pressed his lips to the warm, soft skin of the instep. He felt Toushiro shudder.

"Ichigo." He raised his head; short, lithe arms reached for him. Ichigo stood up, gathering Toushiro to him. He was surprised when those arms wrapped around his neck, and petal soft, pink lips pressed gently to his own. He took control of the kiss, keeping it gentle as he carried Toushiro out of the bathroom.


	3. past life

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A cool breeze drifted in through the open window. Ichigo sat on the plush armchair with the foot rest raised up and Toushiro cradled sideways in his lap, head nestled against his chest. By now, the little shinigami had relaxed his hold on Ichigo's shirt, instead latching onto one of Ichigo's large hands with both of his small ones.

He held the lean fingers tightly, playfully nibbling on the tips like a fluffy kitten while Ichigo bounced him in his arms and stole little kisses in between nibbles. Ichigo tickled his flat stomach lightly; Toushiro squirmed, biting back giggles.

He'd torn the toilet paper off his ankle soon as they got in the door then stuffed it down the back of Ichigo's shirt. Ichigo had almost dropped him getting it out. Toushiro's smirk had been wiped off his little face by the deep, breath-taking kiss Ichigo had stolen from him.

Ichigo pulled his hand free, moving it out of Toushiro's grasp. Toushiro's little arms reached out, fingers grabbing at empty air like a child grasping for its favorite toy. Ichigo kissed the tip of his pert nose as he reached out and grabbed one of Toushiro's feet. "They're so pretty and perfect, like the rest of you. How could anyone destroy such beauty?"

Toushiro's face clouded over momentarily and he tried to press himself further into Ichigo's protective embrace. His turquoise eyes glazed over and his voice was soft, barely audible. "For beauty. For modesty. For obedience." Ichigo said nothing; he just held him and let him tell his story.

"I was born in a small fishing village along the northern coast. I never knew its name- I was young when the barbarians from the continent invaded. They were defeated, but they didn't leave empty handed."

A slight tremor ran down Toushiro's spine. Ichigo tightened his hold as the boy's petite hand fisted in his shirt once more. "They took you."

Toushiro nodded against him. "They said I was too pretty to leave behind, or kill. I was a gift, a spoil of war, to the Mongolian empress. She'd taken over China, and now had her eyes on Japan. I lived and grew up in her palace. I was her favorite play thing. She couldn't wait until I grew old enough so she could- she could-"

He broke off and shuddered, burying his face in Ichigo's chest. Ichigo rubbed his back, silently listening. Though outwardly calm, inside his heart was breaking. The icy little captain had been through so much pain. Ichigo hurt enough at the loss of his mother, but Toushiro had lost so much more. His friends, his family, his home- all had been cruelly stripped away from him at a tender age.

Toushiro turned so his cheek was pressed over Ichigo's heart; he could feel and hear it beating. The lull of Ichigo's heart and his strong, warm arms comforted the taichou, made him feel safe.

"I don't remember much, except her eyes were cold, and her hands hard. She liked to hurt, and broke the things she touched. Her gardens, though, were big and beautiful. I remember them because I'd wanted so badly to play in them." Vivid, sad cerulean flooded the green blue orbs. Toushiro trembled, small hand jerking in Ichigo's shirt.

Ichigo kissed his forehead gently. He felt the boy's pain. He could easily picture a toddler Toushiro staring out at pretty flowers, lush green grass, and trees filled with birds, bees, and butterflies. Toushiro's small fingers would reach out, aching to go chase the creatures or roll in the sun warmed grass. But he'd never gotten the chance because…

"What I remember the most though was the pain in my feet. It never went away, even after the two year binding process was over. Those days in the garden were pure torture. The empress' healers insisted it was 'good for my health' and would 'soothe my troubled soul'."

Toushiro sneered, and Ichigo was relieved to see a spark of the fiery taichou's usual self. "I wanted to run, to chase butterflies, but I could barely totter on those twisted stumps!"

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Review. You know you want to.


	4. wrongs righted

Well, it's been a fun journey, but this is it. The last chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

I guess at the end of fics, most authors usually have some poetic, pretty parting words, commentaries, or some other spiffy lil notes. I would like to take this time and use it for….shameless self promotion! Gotta pimp my goods! &strikes a cheesy victory pose&

Okay, if you're really into/ curious about the footbinding thing, I got a Beyblade fic called "China Blossom" that goes into MUCH greater detail and exploration than I did here.

If you loved the IchiHitsu interaction here, you'll love my new fic "Frozen Tears". It's a completely revamped, redone and better than ever revision of "Thoughtless". Some of you have read that fic. Well, now it has more IchiHitsu goodness! I've doubled the length, added a touch of cuddling and a cup or two of angst. So now you can have your cake and eat it too. With rainbow colored sprinkles, even!

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Toushiro sneered, and Ichigo was relieved to see a spark of the fiery taichou's usual self. "I wanted to run, to chase butterflies, but I could barely totter on those twisted stumps!"

Ichigo crushed Toushiro against him. Unable to breathe, the boy squawked and pushed against his chest. "Toushiro!" Due to the little one's frantic squirming, Ichigo pulled back.

Gasping, Toushiro glared up at him. "Idiot." But one little hand was still tightly fisted in his shirt.

Ichigo massaged Toushiro's scalp, running long fingers through his thick, soft and spiky hair. Toushiro gradually relaxed in his arms. "What happened, Shiro-chan?" As he began, Toushiro's bright eyes glazed over as he was swept back into memories of the past.

"Once the initial binding was complete, my feet had shrunk into the prized golden lily size. The bindings stayed tight, keeping my feet in that folded, deformed shape. The pain never went away. As time went on, I never got used to it- there was always that part of me that long to be free- but I learned to deal. Until-"

Toushiro paused, chewing his soft, pink lip. He wouldn't raise his eyes up to Ichigo's. "Until the day she gave me those slippers." He closed his eyes, fist tugging on Ichigo's shirt, and chest rising and falling rapidly. His slim frame shuddered.

In the bathroom, he'd felt like this in Ichigo's arms. Frowning, Ichigo bounced him lightly and rubbed his chest and stomach. Toushiro calmed down, peering up at Ichigo through a veil of thick, black lashes. "Ichigo…" He whispered softly.

Ichigo laid a fingertip on his soft lips. "It's alright." Toushiro smiled softly up at him. Ichigo moved his hand away. The little one let go of his shirt and caught the large hand with both of his small ones and clasped it to his chest. Under those little fingers, Ichigo's hand lay flat; the strawberry boy could feel Toushiro's strong little heart beating under his palm.

"They were white like newly fallen snow to symbolize purity, innocence. My virginity. A dragon for power, beauty, and honor. A symbol of good luck. And blue for sorrow and my tears." He laughed bitterly at the last remark, nails digging into the back of Ichigo's hand. Ichigo winced and Toushiro ran his fingers over the skin in gentle apology.

"They were a gift for the day I entered the empress' private chamber." He paused, slender body trembling slightly and curled further into Ichigo. "She got off on pain. As I lay bleeding and crying under her, she licked my tears off my cheek."

He shuddered, looking sick at the memory. His chest hitched, but Ichigo's large, warm hand on him, and the strong arms cradling him kept him calm, kept the memories at bay.

"That night, what she took from me, the things she did to me, hurt more than my feet ever did." Toushiro was shaking, and his hold on Ichigo's hand hurt. "I couldn't- wouldn't- let her touch me like that again. Because of my bound feet, I couldn't run away. But I could still escape."

Hitsugaya's voice was strong with conviction and he stared up into Ichigo's eyes unflinchingly. Ichigo blinked in confusion at the strength of emotion radiating from turquoise eyes. "Shiro-chan…"

"I killed myself." He said it simply. "I impaled myself on her sword- the same blade she used to slaughter my people. I did it not out of shame, but defiance. She broke my body, but not my will. Death was my only escape, and I died with a smile on my bruised lips."

Toushiro's cocky smirk was back in place. "I only regretted that I couldn't take the vile bitch with me. I tried, but she was stronger than me. I sliced her arm, but before she could take her sword away, I threw myself on the blade."

Ichigo didn't know what to say. He just held Toshirou close, gazing down at him. "Beautiful and strong. No wonder you have so many admirers." Toshirou's pale face flushed under the intense gaze.

Ichigo longed to stroke the soft skin, but his free hand was trapped under Toshirou's. He lowered his head and whispered, "I wish I had been there. I would've slaughtered the bitch and carried you off for my own."

Toushiro shivered as Ichigo's hot breath ghosted over his sensitive flesh. "I already am yours." He closed his eyes as Ichigo kissed him tenderly, his hand slipping free and under Toshirou's shirt.

Ichigo's thumb flicked over a pert nipple. Toshirou whimpered and squirmed in pleasure, sinking further against him. Ichigo whispered huskily, "Let me take you to my bed and show you what your first time should've been like."

Toshirou whimpered and mewled as Ichigo's hot hand teased his tingling, shivering skin, leaving him hot and panting for more. He nodded and Ichigo claimed his lips again, this time deepening the kiss.

Every little shudder of Toshirou's petite body brought pleasure to Ichigo's. Each mewl was music to his ears. Toshirou had been wronged too many times- in his life and afterlife- but Ichigo was here now to make things right. He had the young taichou's bruised heart in his hands and he'd never mistreat him.

Ichigo stood with Toshirou in his arms, nibbling on soft pink lips as he carried the boy to his bedroom.

OWARI

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Yes, 'tis it. The end. The end! Mwahaha!

Erm…I hoped you enjoyed this story- keep an eye out for some of my new ones!

And, as always, please review! It's always greatly appreciated, and I DO reply to reviews, unlike a lot of authors. So review and I'll get back to ya!

Speaking of reviewing, did I mention I got a new fic, "Frozen Tears" out? Cuz I do, and some reviews for it would be wonderful!


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